


To The Sky

by avenginghunters, lionor



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: Mirror Universe
Genre: (very slow burn), Academy Era, Enemies to Friends, Eventual temporary Kirk/Spock, F/M, Gen, M/M, Mirrorverse based on ambition and violence so be warned i guess, Slow Burn, Temporarily Unrequited Love, temporary Gaila/Jim
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-18
Updated: 2018-08-05
Packaged: 2018-09-09 09:11:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 15,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8885179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avenginghunters/pseuds/avenginghunters, https://archiveofourown.org/users/lionor/pseuds/lionor
Summary: Ambition fuels every decision they make, but it just might bring a crew together. An Academy Era saga.





	1. Launch

**Author's Note:**

> This is our first co-authored multichaptered fic, and our first Mirrorverse foray. If the build isn't slow enough, yell at us. Thanks for checking it out!

“Restraints in place,” barked the lieutenant commanding the shuttle. Seatbelts snaked across the cadets’ bodies. The tight fibers bit into Jim’s shoulders and held him uncomfortably upright. He surveyed his fellow passengers, trying to size them up. _She must be an admiral’s daughter, could be useful. He had dark eyes and a squint, probably a pilot. Wonder if he already had a ship lined up. If he did, might be worth knowing._ Finally, his eyes traced to the man sitting next to him. Tallish, dark hair, weathered face. His eyes were shut -- with pain, with fear? No profession easily discernable. Jim’s eyes narrowed a bit as he calculated how best to ingratiate himself. The man shifted in his seat, eyes flaring open as the shuttle banked sharply. “Mediocre pilot, eh?” Jim murmured to him. 

“They’re all mediocre from where I’m standing. You can’t build an empire on assassination and expect well-trained pilots.” the man didn’t pause afterward or try to censor himself. Only two groups of people would dare openly criticize the empire, Jim thought, the family of incredibly well-connected admirals, or doctors.

Jim decided to take the risk. “Where’d you go to med school?” he asked with a slight smirk.

Well-concealed surprise registered in the man’s eyes. “Imperial University School of Medicine, though I fail to see why it would concern you.” 

“Oh, I’m not concerned. I just like to be aware of my fellow man. Name’s Kirk.” He stuck out his hand to shake. 

The man refused it, but gave an incline of his head. “McCoy.”

“And what brings you so far away from that cozy country practice I know you’ve got earthside?” Jim grinned at the growing uneasiness that McCoy was struggling to conceal. 

“Wife took the whole damn planet in the divorce. All I’ve got left is my bones.” the doctor pulled a flask out of his pocket and took a long draw before offering it to Jim. Jim was hesitant, fully aware that the competition in the academy was fierce enough to justify poisoning him on the flight in. 

“Don’t be a damn fool. I’m a doctor. It’s only you command track blockheads that’ll poison a man with a drink so pure as whiskey.” 

Jim scoffed, “You’d be surprised, Bones.” He accepted the flask, silently toasting his admittance into Starfleet before taking a drink. 

* * *

The cadet laughed. “I thought you were some small-town hick who only has sex with farm animals.”

Jim grinned wolfishly. “Not only.”

She laughed again, pretty but still on her guard. Nevertheless, Jim still felt he’d made an ally, or at least someone to talk to on his daily walk to the library from Alien Botany. She had a look about her that suggested she could play people almost as well as he could. It would not do to underestimate her. But Jim wanted more information. “Really though, what’s your name?”

The laughter was still on her face but gone from her eyes. “Oh, because all your little livestock friends would just tell you right away. You’re not getting it. Welcome to the city, kid.” 

“You really make bestiality seem more appealing.”

“Paltry praise, Kirk.”

“Shouldn’t you say poultry?”

She snorted. “Fine. Uhura, that’s all you’re getting.” 

“Thank you for treating me as an equal. It’s a pleasure, Cadet Uhura.” 

“Sure, Kirk, now get out of my face. I’ve got studying to do.” 

“Studying, really? I thought you were brilliant in xenolinguistics.” Something seemed off, as short as their acquaintance had been, she was way too good for study groups. They could be a liability. So she had to be playing someone, probably in the study group.

“I am, but I like to keep my grades as high as possible,” she deadpanned, mirth smothered. “Bye, Kirk.” 

So, someone higher up. Jim hadn’t taken xenolinguistics yet, but he’d have to keep an eye out for a professor or TA with a soft spot for Uhura. They could also be worth knowing. 

* * *

“I didn’t join Starfleet to stitch up busted faces after happy hour every day. I should be in the research labs off-world and you know it.” Leonard knew he was treading on thin ice with the Academy’s head doctors, but he couldn’t do another late shift. 

The lieutenant commander pinched his forehead and grimaced, an expression Leonard knew meant that he was incredibly close to exploding. “I am aware of your significant talents, Doctor McCoy, but you’ve got to know that your attitude is the only thing holding you back, not me. The other cadets-”

“The other cadets are idiots who wouldn’t know a Cardassian’s nervous system from an Andorian’s.” He clenched his jaw. Seeing scores of inept butchers skip ahead of him because they kissed ass better was beginning to gnaw at him. 

“The other cadets,” the commander continued,”are much better at not aggravating everyone they meet.” 

“I do not-”

“McCoy.”

“Yes, sir.” Leonard grumbled. He could see that this particular commander wasn’t going to get him anywhere fast. Leonard spun on his heel, content to concede the battle for another day, but the commander stopped him. 

“McCoy, there’s another reason you’ve been stuck in the clinic for so long.” 

Leonard paused, feigning interest, but he was almost certain he knew exactly what, or who, was keeping him down. “Please go on, commander.”

“It’s your wife.”

“Ex-wife,” he corrected. 

“Ex or not, she’s got it out for you and she is dead set on making sure you’re straightening out busted noses for the rest of your career.”

Leonard had no retort. He knew the break had been bad, knew he should have expected something like this, but secretly he wished Jocelyn hadn’t decided to get so Machiavellian. “Thanks for the heads-up. I’ll keep that in mind,” he muttered. Leonard forced a terse nod at the lieutenant commander and turned back to the emergency room. 

He did not expect for the next busted nose to be Kirk’s. He was holding a cloth mostly soaked with blood, but he still managed a half-smile and piercing eye contact with Leonard. “Fancy seeing you here,” Kirk said, voice muffled by the cloth. 

Leonard raised his eyebrows. “You didn’t strike me as such an idiot last time we met,” he said, snapping on some surgical gloves. “Give me your filthy snot-rag and let’s take a look.” 

Kirk shrugged and followed the doctor to an examination room, proffering the cloth. “Sir, please accept this as a token of my esteem.” Leonard shook his head and didn’t bother to answer. _Idiot’s probably concussed, too._

But after he called a young nurse into the room, he began to realize that Kirk’s tactics actually worked. The next bloody rag that came away from Kirk’s nose was accepted with a giggle, to Leonard’s consternation. A lieutenant that Leonard barely knew passed outside the door and actually poked his head in to ask how Kirk was doing. _A cult of personality,_ he thought incredulously. 

But cults of personality couldn’t heal themselves any better than mere mortals. Leonard took a deep breath. “Alright, Kirk, what’s your favorite color?”

Kirk frowned. “What do you-” 

Leonard snapped his nose back into place and Kirk yelled in pain. “What the hell was that for?”

Leonard turned to find bandages. “They say it hurts less if it’s a surprise.” Leonard had a feeling this wouldn’t be the last time he saw Kirk in the emergency ward. 

* * *

Jim sat at a table at the edge of the courtyard that stood in the direct center of campus. The warm, sunny weather had drawn everyone out of their dorms and the library to sit in the sun in the only grassy place within walking distance. He didn’t like the crowd, but couldn’t resist getting what little sunlight was left in the day. He pulled out his mechanics textbook and began reading for the next day’s class. 

_A good shield strength is absolutely necessary to maintain during long voyages, as your shields could one day be the only thing standing in between you and death or disgracing the empire with defeat._

Dramatic, Kirk thought, but remembered his own father’s demise fighting for the glory of the empire. Their shields had held out far longer than should have been possible, long enough to get his mother off of the ship at any rate. He’d been born in a shuttle careening wildly away from the dying remains of the I.S.S. Kelvin. _Maintain Shields,_ he thought, _noted._

Jim was pulled out of his reading by loud laughter a table away. He looked up and saw a security track cadet leaning into a conversation with a round-faced, green-skinned girl next to him. He was a burly, aggressive men who probably joined the Empire, not for glory or advancement, but for the opportunity to kill across the galaxy. The girl looked uncomfortable, forced laughter and her increasing physical separation from the cadet an obvious sign. 

Jim sighed. It wasn’t his problem, but he had to do something for her. _She might come in handy later,_ he reasoned. He stood and packed his backpack up. He transferred his knife to his jacket sleeve, hoping that he wouldn’t have to use it, but prepping it for quick access just in case. 

“Is this guy bothering you?” he called loudly. Several heads in a two-table radius peaked up. Kirk breathed a small sigh of relief. The more people paying attention, the less likely that the cadet would want to cause a scene.”

“Get the hell out of here, Kirk.” the man turned and spat in his direction, “This is none of your business.”

Jim stepped forward, smiling. “I’ve never minded my own business a day in my life, Redshirt, and I certainly don’t intend to start. Now get lost.” Something about the way Jim’s voice lowered into a growl, or maybe the glint of the pommel of his knife under his jacket sleeve sent the man away with his tail tucked between his legs. 

He grinned the girl still at the table. “Sorry about them.”

She forced some laughter again. “Nothing I can’t handle. Thanks, though. That was...kind.”

“No, it was just fair. You shouldn’t be threatened by grunts. It’s dishonorable and they should be punished.”

She grinned a little more impishly this time. “Who said I wasn’t threatening them? Haven’t you heard of Orion pheromones? You never know when I might foist myself on people. Or force them to foist themselves on me. How’s that for honor?”

Jim laughed outright. “No dishonor in a little fun.” His grin faded a bit. “Honestly, though, that never crossed my mind. There shouldn’t be room for discrimination on the bridge of starship. We have so many better things to do.”

“Like what?”

“Like quashing the San Francisco rebellion that’s about to happen under our noses, for one thing.”

She raised her eyebrows. “You’re paying a lot of attention to the townies.”

“No more than they’re due.”

The Orion was about to reply when she cried out cheerfully. “Uhura! Hey, come meet my new friend!”

Jim turned to see the linguistics student heading toward them. _I knew she’d be useful,_ he thought. “Why hello, Uhura without a first name.”

Uhura ignored him. “Gaila, what are you doing with this idiot? He’s useless and probably dangerous.”

Gaila pouted. “Come on, Uhura, he actually chased off a few redshirt grunts for me. I wouldn’t say useless quite yet.”

Uhura rolled her eyes. “Whatever. Come on, Kirk, you’ve been a knight, now scram.”

Jim grinned. “As you wish, milady.”

Jim found a table a few tables away from Gaila and Uhura and opened his Alien Cultures textbook. He knew the textbook was unbearably unacademic and biased, but it was required for all Starfleet students. He had to admit with classes such as that that it was brave of Gaila to join Starfleet as an Orion. There were few of her kind in the fleet, and attitudes toward them varied wildly.

It was fully dark after Jim had choked down another chapter of the textbook, he packed up his books and started to leave the courtyard when he heard heavy breathing behind him. 

He turned around and found himself face to face with 6 burly security cadets. 

“Evening, gentlemen.” he smiled, taking a few steps backward. The group remained stoic, glaring pointedly at him. _What do they want?_ Jim answered his own question when he saw the ringleader. The man he’d run off earlier stepped forward, grinning from ear to ear. 

“Evening, Kirk.” 

_Shit. Shit. Shit._ Jim had only seconds to steel himself before the blows hit his stomach, his ribs, his nose, and finally his head. He hit the ground, blackness invading the edge of his vision. He felt a final hard kick to the ribs before he lost consciousness. He saw the men walking calmly away as his vision finally left him. 

_Shit._


	2. Break

Leonard showed up for his shift in the emergency room at 00:02, and Kirk was already there. This time, though, there was no easy smile. An intern had just signed him into the Patient Processing waiting list. The intern looked up as Leonard clocked in. “This guy brought himself in; he was asking for you specifically. I don’t know what happened, but he said he dragged himself off the pavement just to say hello.” She shrugged, handing him a clipboard. 

_Waiting for me, dependent little shit. There are other doctors at this damn academy._ Leonard finished clocking in and made his way over to the bedraggled cadet. “Hello, Starfleet Medical, my name is Leonard, how can I be of service,” he deadpanned. 

Kirk barely managed a grimace. “Hey Bones,” he wheezed. “I’m going to owe you for this one.” And he passed out. 

Protocol had to be followed. Kirk was wheeled into an examination room and prepped for surgery. Leonard hadn’t been allowed to run point on a critical surgery yet, and he felt a thrill of adrenaline as he sterilized the instruments and prepared the room. He wondered vaguely and almost angrily who had wrecked so much havoc on Kirk’s face and ribs, but quickly pushed the curiosity and ( _damn it, no, definitely not_ ) worry away as he took a deep breath. 

Leonard heard a raised voice across the hall, where Kirk was attended by a few of his nurse admirers in the examination room. “Where is the attending physician?” the voice hissed. “I demand to see them.” 

“Sir, you’ll have to wait until the surgery is over--” Sound of a scuffle, a stifled yell. _Sterilization be damned._ Leonard charged into the hall to see a narrow man with black hair held back by a nurse, the other with her hand still raised. He looked suspiciously up at Leonard from dark lashes. 

“I’m the attending physician, if you can remember you’re in a hospital and know how to behave yourself,” Leonard said lowly. “Nurses, you can release him. Temporarily, at least.”

The nurses slowly relaxed and the man straightened, still gazing at Leonard. “I did not mean to cause a disturbance. I’d just like a word.” 

Leonard nodded once and jerked his head to Kirk’s exam room. “You can have a word.” He closed the door.

The man held out his hand. “My name’s Sulu. I’m command track, and I’m on my way up. I’ve heard that Kirk here” -- he gestured rudely at the unconscious form -- “is quite a regular. I’m sure that he gets irritating. I also think he’s irritating.”

Leonard’s face was blank. “Do you have a point, Mr. Sulu?”

Sulu smiled slightly. “I do. If something were to happen during his surgery, think of how relaxing your night shifts would feel. Think of how far you might go with admiralty if you had me at your back. Just consider your options and who your allies are, Doctor. You seem like someone worth knowing.” 

“You flatter me. Are you possibly the goon behind his current predicament?” 

Sulu smiled tightly. “If you do the right thing tonight, I’ll see that you’re capable of answering your own questions. Good luck with your surgery. I’d love to hear how it goes.”

Leonard opened the door. “You won’t like anything I have to say, Mr. Sulu. Get out of my exam room. I’m not interested in your machinations.”

Sulu inclined his head and turned to go. “Your choice, Doctor. But remember that you do not rule the night when you’re not in your precious little medbay, as your new best friend has already discovered.”

“Nurses, please escort this man out of my medbay and get more anaesthesia for Mr. Kirk.” Leonard shook his head and refocused on the man on his operating table as Sulu raised his hands in mock surrender. He’d always heard how cutthroat the Academy was, and of course he knew that the empire was ruthless, but to kill a man on the operating table? Somehow, that didn’t sit right with Leonard. Not here, not now.

* * *

Leonard pulled off his gloves and mask and fell into the bed beside Kirk’s. “You’re certainly a bleeder, and the allergic reaction to the pain meds certainly didn’t help,” he grumbled to his unconscious patient. He’d spent 3 hours sewing the kid back together again. Punctured lung, three fractured ribs, and the ubiquitous broken nose. 

“Shoulda read my file a bit closer, doc. I’ve got allergies I’ll bet you’ve never heard of.” Kirk wheezed and smiled despite the split lip and punctured lung. 

“You’re lucky you got here in time. I can name two or three cadets who would’ve loved to see you leave in a bodybag.”

“Cadets who flunk out by death are incinerated, Bones. You of all people should know that.”

“It’s an expression, smartass.” Leonard scanned Kirk with his tricorder, doing his best to avoid the man’s unsettlingly blue eyes. 

“How did the surgery go? Anyone try sabotage?” Kirk laughed weakly. “Kidding, of course. Hey -- thanks. I know it’s your job, but thanks.”

Leonard was glad he was at the tray prepping the hypo at the mention of sabotage. But the thanks was a surprising gesture. _Cult of personality,_ he thought again. “Stop your rambling and go to sleep. No, don’t move, I have a hypo in my hand.” Kirk squirmed anyway but Leonard was very good with a hypo and soon the cadet slumped into unconsciousnes.

* * *

Jim knew right away that the sedative’s dose wasn’t strong enough. He could feel himself slipping between waking and sleeping, which he knew would dredge up some memories he’d rather forget. It always did. 

Dim voices from long ago. _“Say what you like about the governor, but he had guts. Not everyone has that kind of ambition.” The sound of phasers. Jim could feel his stomach writhing, dulled with hunger._

He felt as if he were drowning, the sedatives making it impossible to take a breath. He could feel himself on the edge of waking up, could hear short rapid breaths coming dangerously close to sobs. _The thing about the governor is -- he was just a little too weak to finish the job properly. Isn’t that right, Jim?_ He fought against the voice. _No, it wasn’t right. Ambition could be poisonous, ambition shouldn’t drive a man to do such things._ He struggled in the medbay cot, broken ribs burning and making the short breaths painful. 

Jim forced his eyes open, trying to dispell the sedative, hoping that waking would be less terrifying than sleep. But instead of seeing the plain regulation white ceiling, Jim caught a glimpse McCoy’s concerned eyes. Cool hands adjusted the bandages on his side and Jim heard another hypo being prepped. 

McCoy was grumbling under his breath. “Damn sympathy anyway. Should have offed him.” But the grumbling sounded almost kind to Jim. The hypo had a stronger dose of sedative, and finally Jim slept.

* * *

Two days later, Jim was released from the clinic with a clean bill of health. He couldn’t stop thinking about the grumble he overheard. _Should have offed me, eh? We’ll have to see about that._

On his way out, he clapped the bedraggled end-of-shift McCoy on the shoulder and fixed him with his most innocent grin. “Thanks for not letting me die in there.” Jim waited, surveying every crag of McCoy’s face. Just as he thought, a tiny twitch jutted over his forehead at Jim’s words. _Subtle, but not perfectly concealed. Good._ “Anyway, I’ll see you around.”

The doctor’s face was impassive again. “Hopefully a little less often. Get out of my clinic, already.” 

“Yeah, yeah, I know you’ll miss me, let’s not make a scene.” He was out the door before he heard the grouchy reply. 

It was Tuesday morning, and the clinic had cleared him for class, so Jim headed to Intro to Mechanics for Non-Engineering Specialists. It was the easiest class he had and filled with the people he disliked most. Time to scope out who tried to kill him. Of course, that was assuming the most obvious possibility wasn’t true: that Bones himself didn’t want Jim dead for his own purposes. _Doctors don’t need to kill, they merely need to manipulate. He has no real motive._ Unless McCoy actually thought Jim was that annoying. _No, can’t be. He thinks I’m hilarious._

The class was as always only about half full, but there was a core group of die-hard attendees. Hendorff was there because he was failing, Sulu was a kiss-ass, Han didn’t consider skipping an option, and Chekov was still a minor and thus Starfleet required him to come and go with an escort. Starfleet was cutthroat, but child-murder was typically frowned upon. 

Instead of taking notes on the lecture, Jim studiously ignored the professor and started a list of why everyone in the class might want him dead. _Hendorff: the Cupcake incident, the bar incident, the accidentally mentioning the other incidents in class incident….okay, maybe there’s a case._ He skipped a few lines and moved on. Jim got along with Han fairly well -- they’d done a project together in Non-Empire Aliens and Their Cultures class. He’d like to hope she didn’t want to kill him. Chekov...Jim couldn’t remember ever exchanging a word with Chekov. The kid always seemed to give him dirty looks, but then again, so did almost everyone. No real case. But Sulu. Sulu was quiet in every way that Jim was loud. They’d debated in almost every class they had together, and every debate had ended with a snarky put-down from Jim and a very rude look from Sulu. After the second of these exchanges, Jim had tried to catch Sulu after class, to avoid bad blood. The conversation hadn’t gone well. The phrase “kiss-ass” had unfortunately escaped Jim’s lips and Sulu had called him a self-serving Gorn-loving farm-boy. So, definitely a case there too. 

That left two options. Talk to Hendorff, or talk to Sulu. And though Hendorff was much larger, he didn’t quite have the intelligence that Sulu radiated. _Cupcake it is._

* * *

Jim held tight to the knife in his pocket and squared his shoulders before leaving the lecture hall. It was a bit later than he was comfortable with, but the last pieces of the puzzle had fallen into place after his talk with Cupcake, and the good doctor had a lot of questions to answer.

Jim pulled up Leonard’s address on his PADD and checked the route for any good ambush locations or known anti-Empire enclaves. Just because San Francisco hosted the Academy didn’t mean that there was ever full support from the locals. He’d heard stories of cadets vanishing after a night out in the wrong neighborhood. Later, the patches from their uniform jackets would turn up at different places around campus with a threatening note about encroaching into their territory again. He thought back to the conversation with Gaila, how she seemed surprised at his healthy respect for the townies. Rebellion, Jim had said. He looked around the neighborhood again, acutely aware of his proximity to locals. 

“Bit of a dump, Mr. McCoy.” He studied the picture of the apartment building that Academy records showed Dr. McCoy was living in. It was a small, shabby building at the outskirts of town, but still nicer than the other first-year dorms, a perk of being a doctor and much older than your average cadet. _Lucky bastard._

Jim was halfway to McCoy’s apartment when he heard loud voices from the alleyway between Orion’s Belt Bar and an ramshackle former-tattoo parlor. _Not my problem,_ Jim shrugged, content to leave the dumbass who’d gotten himself jumped at this hour to his own devices. He stopped dead when he could finally hear a clear voice amidst the shouting. 

“You don’t want to do this, gentlemen. If you kill me then you can kiss your dreams of any advancement goodbye.” 

It was Leonard. Jim ran the last 20 feet to the alleyway, stopping just short of the entrance to keep out of their line of sight. He peered around the corner as the sounds of punches and gasping breaths replaced the shouting that had filled the alleyway. There were four men beating Leonard under the glow of a dingy streetlight. They all appeared human, but Jim could really only see one face. He observed a few more moments to gauge their sobriety and their fighting abilities, trying desperately to form a plan should he need to attack, but the swift punch to Leonard’s torso and the sickening crunch afterward forced him to early action. Something about the punch made Jim flinch as he observed. These were the same thugs that had attacked him. 

"He’s right,” Jim yelled from the entrance to the alleyway, “You’re stuck as cannon-fodder if you kill him.” The men stopped punching, but still held Leonard firmly against the dirty brick of the defunct tattoo parlor. 

“Kirk! Keep it moving, pretty boy. This doesn’t concern you.” The biggest of the group stepped toward Jim, flipping the blade of a dark red switchblade out. 

"Good to see you again. Hope all the punching you’ve been doing lately isn’t hurting your hand. But actually, he does concern me,” Jim lied quickly. “He owes me a lot of money, the good doctor. He’s a drinker, but judging by the fine establishment you dragged him out of you already knew that. Leave him alive for me and I’ve got 100 credits with your name on it.” Jim hoped that they’d take their money and be on their way, but the laughs that erupted from the group told him that that wasn’t likely. 

“You go and take your 100 credits with you before we kill you too.” The man turned his back to Jim and swaggered confidently back toward Leonard before motioning for two of the men to attack Jim. Jim took the split second before they reached him to draw the homemade phaser from inside his boot and fired on the men. The closest to him took a hit to the chest and dropped dead in an instant, the smell of charred flesh hitting him in a noxious wave. He hit the next man in the leg, sending him to the ground with a howl. The other men turned back toward him after hearing the cries of their fallen comrades. 

Jim smirked as the men realized what he’d done. “You’ve got two seconds to leave my friend there before I blow a hole in both of you.” 

The men dropped Leonard and ran past both of them. Jim held his phaser at the ready until the sound of their hurried footsteps faded into the night. 

Jim stepped over the dead man’s body. _Good riddance, security track pig._ It would be neither the first nor last a cadet had killed with impunity. He saw Leonard eyeing the wounded man, but Jim grabbed his arm and draped it over his neck, half-carrying, half-dragging the doctor out of the alley. “Let’s go home,” he muttered. 

Leonard groaned and managed, “How the hell do you know where I live?” but Jim ignored him and kept walking. 

“Don’t worry about it.” 


	3. Mayday

Kirk patted down Leonard’s pockets. He struggled, but he didn’t have the strength to pull away from from Kirk’s arm. “Oh, calm down,” Kirk muttered, “I’m just trying to find your keys.” 

Leonard rolled his eyes. He never locked his door. He was feeling closer and closer to unconsciousness by the second, and managed to grunt, “Not locked.” 

Kirk frowned. “Why would you leave your door open in this neighborhood? Oh well, good call for this evening. Bet you didn’t plan on inviting me over so soon, eh?” He grinned and pushed open the door, finally depositing Leonard on the couch. Before he could ask, Kirk had already replicated some ice, gotten him a glass of water, and found a cloth. Leonard cleaned his wounds as best he could, putting some ice to his face and popping a few cubes in his mouth. The cold settled him, made him less nervous. _He’d shot that man dead out there. So what he was a bad guy, he’s still dead._ The possibility that Kirk was a very dangerous man began to dawn on him. _So why is he being so...kind?_

Jim sat down on the other side of the couch. “So. McCoy. Leonard. Bones. Why didn’t you let Sulu kill me?”

Leonard sputtered, nearly choking on his ice. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Leonard knew that Kirk could see right through him. He had no clue how Kirk would react to the assassination attempt, and that made him feel suddenly vulnerable, alone and wounded in face of the unknown variable. 

But Kirk wasn’t done. “Come on, don’t be an idiot, it doesn’t suit you. I know something almost went down a few days ago at the clinic, and I know the reason it didn’t was because of you. And I saved your life now, so we’re even. I don’t owe you anymore and I’m not interested in lies.”

“Fine, you’re right. It was Sulu,” Leonard admitted. He felt his aching muscles tense, ready to defend himself if he had to. He knew he didn’t have much hope of winning against Kirk with the wounds bleeding onto his couch, but he’d be damned if he went down without a fight at all. The fight never came. Kirk simply grinned. _I’d’ve preferred a punch,_ Leonard thought as Kirk settled back further into the couch. 

“Why didn’t you take the offer?” he asked instead. 

_I don’t know,_ Leonard wanted to say, but the words stuck in his throat. Why had he declined Sulu’s fairly generous offer? One slip of the knife and he could’ve been on his way to a research position off world, or even a day shift at the clinic would have been better than dealing with all the midnight brawlers. 

“That’s sloppy work. I don’t do sloppy work, Kirk.” 

“What I did tonight was sloppy work, Bones. If there isn’t a real reason, fine. But I think it’s time we stop pretending we don’t know each other and stop doing such sloppy work.”

Leonard rolled his eyes again. “Look, Kirk. We don’t know each other. You said it yourself, we’re square now. We owe each other nothing.” 

Kirk shook his head, little grin already in place. “You’re never going to get out of the midnight shift if you don’t make command friends. I’m never going to get off the midnight operating table if I don’t have a good doctor and a good doctor’s invulnerability.”

He had a point. And Leonard had seen the way Kirk could make friends. And he was suitably unafraid of violence. “What makes your offer that much better than Sulu’s?” he asked at last.

“You get to decide that for yourself. But if you want my opinion, the only difference is that you’ll accept mine.”

* * *

Leonard awoke the next morning feeling like he’d been run through a woodchipper. He’d bled through one of his bandages where one of the men’s rings had ripped a large gash in his chest, but other than that his injuries were very minor. That didn’t mean, of course, that they didn’t hurt like hell after his fitful sleep.

The scene from the night before had chased him into his dreams. He saw the men cornering him in the bar and dragging him through the back door like they’d watched him drink there before. He’d formed an easily trackable routine in his short time at the academy. A mistake, apparently. And then his thoughts turned to Kirk’s offer. What kind of mistake would that be? But the cadet had had a point. Leonard needed command friends, and he was already predisposed to Kirk. Likely another mistake.

An alert from his PADD roused him from his thoughts. It was from Lieutenant Commander Harper from the clinic. _You’re late. Report immediately, provide adequate excuse code, or expect discipline._ Leonard stared at the message, wracking his brain for way to get medical excuse code from a supervisor without betraying his wounds. He needed more friends in higher places, and at the moment Kirk was all he tentatively had. He drafted a new message. _Kirk -- Get me a medical excuse code, and I’ll take your offer. You have one hour._

Fifty minutes later, the PADD pinged again. _ME6657. Too easy. I’ll be in touch._

“What have you gotten yourself into, McCoy?” he whispered to himself as he relayed the code to the lieutenant commander. 

Leonard stashed his PADD in his bedside table without waiting for a reply and limped to the bathroom. He winced at his reflection and gingerly inspected the cuts and darkening bruises on his face and chest.The hospital’s empire-issued equipment would make short work of his injuries, but he couldn’t risk showing weakness in front of the other doctors, so his own homemade dermal regenerator would have to do. Kirk hadn’t done a terrible job patching him up, but he was going to need every day of leave to deal with his injuries in-house. 

Leonard fought the unavoidable pain that the regenerator caused and managed to improve the worst of the gashes before taking a shower and settling down in the living room with his PADD and enough schoolwork that the thought alone was giving him a headache. He was halfway through the first assignment when the door handle jiggled. Leonard immediately dropped his PADD on the couch and crept across the living room. 

He crouched by the door and pressed his ear against it. He could hear two different sets of footsteps seemingly pacing from one end of his small porch to the other, but only one voice. 

“I don’t think this is the house. It’s too run down. The man’s a doctor for fuck’s sake.”

Leonard held his breath until the footsteps passed, and he didn’t stand up for several minutes as he waited for the panic to subside. _Get it together, McCoy,_ he thought, but he was grateful for his caution. The clinic would have been too dangerous. 

Leonard checked every lock on every window in his home before his heart stopped hammering in his chest and spent the rest of the day locked in his room. He forced himself to sleep by convincing himself it would help the wounds to better heal. Nevertheless, it was a long night. 

A loud noise coming from the living room jolted him out of bed, adrenaline suddenly dulling the pain from the dermal regenerator. He pulled his knife out of his bedside table and crept carefully toward his bedroom door. A few days ago, he had no idea that rejecting Sulu’s offer would trigger a wave of bumbling assassins who couldn’t even get through an unlocked door without causing a ruckus. He still wouldn’t have accepted it, but a little warning would’ve been nice. 

Leonard took a deep breath and ripped the bedroom door open, expecting to see another group of lowlifes coming in for the kill. What he got was Jim Kirk. 

“My god, man. Are you trying to get me to kill you?” Leonard flipped the knife’s blade back in and set it on the small table next to his couch. 

Kirk grinned and dropped a large duffle bag next to the two ragged suitcases already at his feet. “You’d’ve been lucky to graze me with that, McCoy. You’re a little advanced in age to be attacking finely honed weapons such as myself.” 

Leonard lifted an eyebrow, “Finely honed weapon, my ass. What are the bags for?”

“I’m your new roommate, effective immediately. The nice lady at Cadet Services was very happy to hear about our engagement by the way. Said that I’d do you a lot of good.”

“Engagement?” Leonard’s blood boiled. “You told the Academy that we were engaged? Why?” 

Jim pulled a sheaf of papers out of his duffel bag. “It was the only way they’d let me move in here. They don’t like mixing command and medical students with so many Sulus running around.”

“You didn’t need to move in, Kirk. We’re an incredibly tentative alliance, not a married couple.”

“Yet, Bones, not a married couple yet. Don’t go snitching to the Academy either. Your signature is on this affidavit just as clear as mine.”

Leonard gave a long-suffering sigh. “How long does this ruse need to go on?” 

Kirk’s eyebrows sprang up. “Bones, marriage is forever.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, and if you've been waiting for this update, thanks for sticking around. There will be more!


	4. Reverse

The affidavit was admittedly difficult to swing. Jim had somehow not expected moving to be such a problem -- if a cadet was smart enough to have a way out of the first-year dorms ( _deathtraps_ , he thought sullenly), then why stop them. Brains were as good as brawn, that’s what the Academy was supposed to teach. Tricking your enemy was as valuable a skill as eliminating them. 

Which was why watching the surprise in McCoy’s face was completely worth it. Jim realized, as he watched the stirring of some kind of emotion behind the doctor’s eyes, that this was the best con he’d ever run. And it was going to be long-term. 

He had short term problems, however. First on the list being Sulu, as confirmed by both Hendorff. Not only had he plotted against Jim, but he’d made very real strides against McCoy. Jim was playing McCoy, but he’d hold to the agreement they had formed, which meant protection from these kind of threats. So, Sulu would just have to die. 

He told as much to Leonard when the doctor asked snarkily a few days later, “Now that you’ve taken over my home, what are we going to do about Sulu?” 

“Well, obviously he’s got to die.” 

Leonard snorted. “I’m a doctor, you know murder can’t be my first thought. And how the hell are we supposed to make that happen?”

Jim frowned. “Why can’t murder be our first thought? He’s a threat.”

“Doctors, especially young doctors, need to be sufficiently trustworthy. If you want to use me to get to a cushy position offworld, murdering your first Academy rival would be unwise. Because soon enough I’d turn up dead, and I know I’m not interested. So we can’t murder, not before trying something else.” 

Jim looked back at him. _He’s playing the game so well. Already saying we._ He cleared his throat. “I see. Well, that definitely contradicts my first plan, which was to subtly but definitively shoot him in the face, but if you have another idea, I’d listen.” He sighed. “Fine. If you really don’t want to kill him outright, you can listen to my other, better plan.” 

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying shooting Sulu outright would be sloppy. What do those higher up doctors always say? You can save lives but you also have the power to take them?”

Leonard’s eyes narrowed. “I also just said we cannot murder in this situation. Anyway, you’d have to make sure I’m the physician on duty when he has the accident and the med schedules aren’t easy to hack.” 

Jim grinned. _Hook, line, and sinker._ “Stop worrying, I’m trying to explain that it’s not murder, _per se_. At least not of Sulu. And it doesn’t exactly involve you being the physician on duty, it just requires some medical expertise.”

Leonard shook his head. “Look it up yourself, read a book or something.”

Jim pouted. “You know medical texts are controlled. Really, I got this. We just take out Sulu’s cronies one by one, before Sulu even knows what’s hit them. If we do it all on campus, we’ll be virtually untraceable. Then, we defame Sulu, and suggest that it’s him who’s placed the hits on all the cronies. Everyone would be either too dead or too terrified to contest it.”

“What the hell kind of foolish plan is this? They’ll find out soon enough, just watch. Whatever you do, you’re gonna lead Sulu and his cronies directly to my doorstep as soon as he realizes he has people missing.”

“They don’t know where we are, Bones, lighten up. It’s going to be _fine_. You’re gonna get an ulcer looking at me like that all the time.” Jim smiled crookedly. “And anyway, it’s not your doorstep, it’s _our_ doorstep.” 

McCoy stood up. “You’re an absolute fool, Kirk. Talk to me again when you have something worthwhile worked out.” He turned coldly into his room, closing the door firmly. Jim heard the lock click. 

That had been unexpected. Jim frowned, temporarily afraid he’d miscalculated. No, he didn’t doubt the look in McCoy’s eye when he’d announced his intention to move in. The man was definitely more than platonically interested. But perhaps it was time to tone down the brashness. Perhaps McCoy was right, and it would be smarter to play a slower game. 

* * *

Whether or not McCoy was angry at him, Jim could still use their new “relationship” to his advantage. Notably, he was starting to get higher up attention. Two days after his failure to pitch his plan, a lieutenant he’d spoken to only briefly invited him to the officers’ drink night at one of the nicer clubs near campus. It was meant to be a controlled environment where officers could speak freely without threat of retaliation, and Jim found it to be the perfect place to spread a few well-timed seeds of doubt about fellow cadets. Namely Sulu. 

Lieutenant Illian, who was high enough to have served with Admiral Archer, was a bit too old and high up in the food chain to be fraternizing with cadets, but Jim wasn’t complaining. 

“Glad you could make it, Cadet, but shouldn’t you be somewhere else tonight? You and your man are still young enough to really enjoy the downtown scene. Shouldn’t be cooped up with us old-timers.” 

Jim smiled and ordered the same beer that Lieutenant had probably been nursing since he’d gotten there. “My Leonard’s not much into the party scene, and I would much rather be here than with so many other cadets. More legroom.” 

Lieutenant Illian chuckled, “I remember my time as a Cadet. San Fran was a different place back then. The townies weren’t nearly so unruly. Mark my words, Cadet Kirk, the Academy will be dealing with them sooner rather than later. Can’t leave such a matter unattended for very long right under the empire’s nose.” 

Kirk felt a chill run up his spine. There’d been another disappearance, a good kid as far as Starfleet recruits went. The simmering pot of San Francisco was a few more violent confrontations away from its boiling point. “I hope so, sir. I wouldn’t want to be one of them when the Academy does come calling.” He laughed mirthlessly and fought the leaden weight that had settled in his chest at the thought of the bloodbaths that a large-scale conflict would create in the city. He’d been in a city under siege, and the thought of a repeat performance sickened him. 

“Enough talk of this wretched city. On to the reason for me calling you here. There’s been rumblings about you, Cadet Kirk. Rumblings that have found their way to people in high places.”

“All good I hope.” 

“Better than most. You’ve got natural leadership skills, very intelligent, loyal. I just like to get a good feel for the incoming cadets. Anyone I should be worried about?” The question came out amicably enough, but Kirk hesitated. It could be a trap. The Lieutenant might be weeding out potential enemies for a few favorites, or Jim could be missing a big opportunity to put in a bad word for Sulu. Bones may have been on the fence about murdering Sulu, but murdering his reputation surely didn’t count, and a tarnished reputation could be akin to death at Starfleet. 

Jim took a deep breath and took the chance. “There is one Cadet, Hikaru Sulu.”

Lieutenant Illian’s eyebrows raised in recognition. “He tested about as well as you. A bit more ruthless than you, but only half as charming I would guess. What do you think of him?” 

“I think he’s dangerous, but not in a beneficial way. He seems to be a man that would lose sight of a goal if revenge were more easily accessible. Like he’d cut off his nose to spite his face.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, Cadet. I have business to attend to for the rest of the evening, but hopefully I will be seeing you again.” Kirk smiled easily and shook the Lieutenant’s hand before beating a hasty retreat out of the officer’s gathering. Normally he would stick around to see who else he couldn’t mingle with, but that had been enough risk for one night. Any more and he’d have a very crotchety doctor to contend with. 

* * *

Jim let himself in after the long evening out, half-hoping McCoy was waiting up. He had a new plan to explain. Miraculously, Jim got his wish: McCoy was half asleep on the couch, and sat up suddenly at the sound of the door. 

Jim softened his face into a careful study of solicitude. “Hey, Bones. Got a second?”

Leonard blinked muzzily. “Yeah, why else am I up? We need to talk about your half-assed plan.”

“Perfect, because I realized you were right. I was rushing into things too foolishly. We can play a better game.” Jim moved to sit down on the couch next to Leonard, the space still warm with sleep. 

“Oh, so you’re actually capable of admitting fault?”

Jim grinned and shouldered McCoy. “I wasn’t completely wrong, I just miscalculated a bit. You fixed the math, or something.”

He felt Leonard’s surprise at the gentle touch, and was pleasantly surprised himself when the doctor shouldered back. “You’re an idiot if you can’t do that simple of math. But go on with whatever this new scheme is.”

“We don’t need to bother with Sulu’s cronies. We don’t need to bother with complications. Tonight I realized I have the ear of some more powerful people than I’d thought. All we need to do is say Sulu is a problem, and eventually they’ll take care of him for us. He’ll get kicked out, and we’re scot-free.”

Leonard snorted. “Since when has anything you’ve done been scot-free?”

“I feel like you haven’t been paying attention to my now illustrious track record as promising cadet.”

“Promising cadet my ass. Leave me alone and go to bed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments are always welcome!!


	5. Dark

“Mr. Hendorff, what was this conversation that you and Kirk had about?” Sulu lifted his boot from Hendorff’s throat to let the man speak. 

“I didn’t tell him it was you, I swear.” Hendorff’s voice was shrill. _Was he actually panicked or was he betting on mercy? _Sulu put his boot back on Hendorff’s throat and stepped harder than before.__

“What EXACTLY did you say to Kirk?” Sulu kept his foot on Hendorff’s throat, debating whether or not to step just a bit harder and end Hendorff for his betrayal and fraternizing with the enemy, but he stopped short. Hendorff wasn’t a genius, but he was a reliable bodyguard and one of very few security track cadets that he saw potential in. He lifted his foot off Hendorff’s throat and let the man roll on his side, hacking and coughing and trying to clutch onto the cold tile that made up the basements of most Academy buildings. 

“I told him that it was that foreign kid in our mechanics class, Chirpov, Chenkov?” Hendorff finally gasped. 

Sulu withdrew his foot, disgusted. “Get out of my sight. This is your last warning, Hendorff. One more mistake like this and you’re dead, understand?” Sulu kicked him on his way out and threw a chair across the basement. He pulled out his communicator and made the call to Chekov. 

“We may have a breach.” Sulu didn’t expect a reply, he rarely got them over the comms, but this time a static-y voice came through. 

_Meet me, 19:00, the tunnel._

Two hours later, Sulu stood in the abandoned underpass. It dated from when wheeled cars were almost the exclusive mode of transportation. Now, it was home to drug dealers, escaped convicts, and Chekov when he wasn’t with his handlers. Sulu never quite understood why they couldn’t meet somewhere cleaner and better lit, but Chekov was always insistent and Sulu had learned in a year of acquaintance that some things were better left unargued. 

Chekov detached himself from a shadow (Sulu knew that had to be the reason why they met in this grimy shithole) and sidled over. “So. Who’s the traitor this time?”

Sulu repressed an eyeroll at Chekov’s dramatics. “Hendorff. He talked to Kirk. Probably under duress, but still. We can’t tolerate him anymore.” 

Chekov nodded. “You’re right. And you didn’t manage to take down Kirk. No one has managed to take down Kirk.”

“Or the doctor,” Sulu interrupted. 

“Right.” Chekov frowned. “So what can we do to get both of them? You know they have to be countering us. We’ve wasted enough men, and I’m not interested in wasting more, knowing Kirk has a homemade phaser.” 

“We’ll have to be smarter. Hendorff told Kirk it was you, but McCoy and Kirk know more directly that I’m to blame. I think we’re safe in guessing they don’t believe you’re involved.”

Chekov smiled. “So it’s perfect that I’m involved.”

“Exactly.” Sulu paused. “Wait. They _never_ thought you were involved.”

“What are you saying?”

Sulu compressed his lips, suddenly pale. “He lied. Chekov, Hendorff had the gall to lie. I was afraid he knew, but he’s too stupid. No, he made a much bigger mistake.”

Chekov grinned, this time toothily. “And I know you know how to deal with repeat offenders.”

* * *

Sulu was happy to begin planning Hendorff’s death, and quickly got to work tracking the other cadet’s whereabouts. Within a few hours, Sulu had established Hendorff’s class schedule, preferred study spaces, and favorite bar. It was almost too easy. Sulu had figured Cupcake was dense, but never this dense. Classes and study spaces could admittedly be hard to mask, but a bar? Sloppy. 

The hit would have to happen soon. If Hendorff suspected anything, he’d tell Command. And Command could not officially look favorably at infighting. Off campus would be best, then, leaving the bar as Sulu’s best location option. He pulled up the address on his PADD and saw that it was only a couple of blocks from his apartment. Plenty of time to kill Hendorff and have an alibi should his name come up in a Starfleet investigation. He didn’t imagine that they’d bother investigating for the likes of Hendorff, but he hadn’t made it that far by being reckless. 

Sulu waited in the shadowed alleyway outside the bar, ears pricked for any disturbance in the quiet night. There’d been a curfew instituted for townies in this sector since the last weeklong riot had shut it down, but he knew that his fellow cadets posed just as much a risk. He laughed at the thought. Being killed on the way to commit a murder. What a way to go. 

Several groups passed the alleyway by before Sulu caught sight of Hendorff, disheveled and swaying like he’d been drunk under the table. He let Hendorff pass and slid out of the shadows, unsheathing his knife. He was only feet away when a loud bark broke the silence. A dog raced past them, two more dogs hot on his tail. Hendorff turned toward the noise just as Sulu was lifting his knife. 

Hendorff stumbled backwards and clumsily unsheathed his own knife. Sulu lunged, hoping to catch him before he could get his bearings. Hendorff dodged the attack, lighter on his feet than Sulu expected. He fell back and bought a precious few seconds to think before a blinding light flashed between them. 

“What the hell is going on here?” a booming voice stopped them mid-attack. 

“Patrols,” Sulu whispered. He recognized the blinding flashlight they used to disorient their suspects. He bolted just as Hendorff sprinted in the opposite direction. _He sure sobered up fast_ , Sulu thought. He took the long way home, weaving in and out of side streets and cutting through a few abandoned factory lots. He hadn’t seen any sign of a pursuit, but really hadn’t expected one. The patrolman was alone and probably just didn’t want anyone getting stabbed on his block. The paperwork was probably a bitch. Nevertheless, his heart pounded until he finally entered his front door code and fell face first onto his bed. 

Hendorff would be wary of him now, maybe even tell Command about the incident, but it was Hendorff’s word against his and Sulu liked his odds. He’d get another chance at Hendorff.

* * *

Jim was getting too confident, and he knew it. Classes with Sulu were about to lose their competitive edge, as thanks to Lieutenant Illian, professors would methodically begin to put the cadet further and further behind. And evenings at home with McCoy were neither as peaceful nor as simple as Jim had expected. It was easy, playing McCoy, but not so easy as Jim had hoped -- the man was still too suspicious of him. In short, it was time for new friends. 

After class, Jim made his way to the courtyard where he’d studied at the beginning of the year. Where he’d been beaten to shit the first time. Where he’d had a few enlightening conversations with Uhura and her Orion friend. It was getting too cool to want to study outside, but Jim still had a hunch that Uhura would show up for that study table she’d talked about once. The way she had mentioned it, it seemed worth attending. 

Sure enough, within an hour, Uhura and three other cadets all carrying the xenolinguistics textbook arrived. They gathered around a larger round table to discuss and assignment. Nothing out of the ordinary, if a little chummy for the average class. Jim looked down at his own work. 

He looked up again when a tall man with distinctly pointed ears arrived to the table. _That’s no cadet_ , Jim thought. _That’s a Vulcan_. As far as anyone knew, there was only one Vulcan in Starfleet -- the bastard son of a diplomat and an Earth woman. Too smart for humans, too dumb for Vulcans, and unwanted by both. And, apparently, a brilliant xenolinguist. Jim flipped open his PADD and searched the xenolinguistics department faculty database, skimming the names for anything that struck him as Vulcan-sounding. Finally, he found it: Spock, Adjunct Professor, Various Subjects. 

Uhura’s body language changed as soon as the Vulcan approached. She lost her assertive tone and sharp movements, and became quickly acquiescing to Spock’s pronouncements, nodding frequently in agreement with most of what he said. Sometimes -- and she was the only one to do so -- she’d put up a hand and swiftly interrupt with an incisive question. Spock never chastised her for asking too many questions, and would always answer her in the same measured tone, sometimes even half-praising her. The other students regarded the exchanges with ill-concealed awe and resentment. 

After about an hour, the study table dispersed. Spock stayed with Uhura just a moment longer than politeness demanded, and if Jim didn’t know better, he would have sworn the two were chatting. 

Spock finally turned to go and Uhura began gathering her books. Jim waited until the Vulcan was a few minutes away and walked behind Uhura, conspicuously dropping a book. Uhura spun around, knife drawn. Jim raised his hands and backed away. “Excuse me, I was just perusing some scholarly works when one happened to slip out of my hand. I beg your pardon.”

Uhura scoffed but sheathed her knife. “You’re an idiot. What’s your name again? Johnny? Dumbo? Something Kirk.”

“Jim,” Jim supplied, eyebrows raised in what he knew was his look of attractive incredulity. “And you’re Uhura. Xenolinguistic savant and apparently a brown-noser.”

“You’re too kind,” she said sarcastically. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“I’ll give you this -- you’re a pro. Not even I’m brave enough to play a Vulcan.” 

She didn’t smile, but Jim saw her eyes lose some of their harshness. “Well, not everyone can be pretty, can they, Kirk?”

“If everyone means everyone in this courtyard, then I think you’re wrong.”

Uhura shook her head. “Talking to you is like talking to a testosterone-fueled pencil. Big-headed and a complete waste of time.”

Jim grinned. “I honestly respect that opinion. As I honestly respect the work you’re doing with that Vulcan friend of yours.”

Jim was certain that he saw the beginnings of a smile play across her features. “I’m just getting the most I can from my education.”

As he watched her leave the courtyard, Jim smiled once again to himself. She and her misfit Vulcan were going to be very good allies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	6. Mutiny

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which Chapel dual wields

The sky was fully dark as Jim headed back to McCoy’s apartment. The brisk fall night cut through his cadet’s uniform, but confidence warmed him. Uhura would come round as an ally, he was sure. She was too smart not to. And Sulu’s character assassination was comfortably underway. Things were looking up. And then he heard a sound. 

Jim spun around, knife drawn. He didn’t lower his guard as he recognized the figure: Hendorff. 

“Wait,” the burly man said, arms up. “I have some information you might find interesting.”

Jim straightened from his stance but didn’t sheathe the knife. “Inquiring minds want to know. But why do you want to tell?”

“I’ve been doing some thinking--”

“I’m impressed, that must be hard for you.”

Hendorff cleared his throat angrily. “I said, I’ve been doing some thinking about who I’ve chosen as friends. And I’m starting to wonder about changing my mind.”

Jim opened his mouth to make another quip, but Hendorff’s gaze was arresting. 

“You see, Kirk, you think I don’t listen. Everyone thinks I don’t listen. Sulu hated me because he thought I didn’t listen to his orders. I made a mistake, but I’m not the only person who can screw up. And what I’m going to tell you makes me think you’ll not make the same mistake I did.”

Jim nodded. “I’m listening.”

“Good. Here it is. Sulu’s about to try for the doctor again.”

Part of Jim was surprised to feel a stab of anxiety. The rest of him felt panic. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that Sulu has had enough of whatever game you’re playing, so he’s going to take out your strongest ally.” 

“And what game are you playing?”

“I need protection. I don’t want to be one of Sulu’s lackeys anymore. I don’t like you much more than I like him, but you seem to give people choices, and I’m pretty damn tired of being treated as mindless. Treat me like an equal, and you’ll have my help killing Sulu.”

McCoy wouldn’t approve of killing Sulu, not even like this. But McCoy couldn’t approve of anything if he was dead. Jim nodded, smiling grimly. “Welcome aboard, Mr. Hendorff. Looking forward to working with you.”

* * *

Leonard jumped from a light doze as Kirk opened the door. “We need to talk about a curfew,” he muttered, sitting up from his nest on the couch.

Kirk smiled tightly. “Yeah, yeah, spare me the lecture.” 

“Spare me the heart attack,” Leonard shot back. But something seemed off. Kirk had a tight set to his shoulders that was normally absent in the safe haven the apartment had become. “Anything happen tonight on your little spy mission?”

Kirk only shook his head tersely in answer. 

“Is that Uhura you keep talking about going to be useful after all?”

“Maybe. I’ll fill you in later.” With that Kirk stalked out of the living room into the small guest room. 

Leonard frowned after him. 

He had almost settled down again when Kirk burst back into the living room. “That nurse, the one who stands up for you at the clinic, what’s her name?”

“Trying to start a girl band between her and Uhura, huh?”

“God damn it, McCoy, what is her name?”

“One doctor ally not enough?”

“Just tell me, and maybe I’ll keep you around.”

“Fine. Her name is Chapel. She’s good with her hands and has a wild streak.”

Kirk smiled almost genuinely. “Sounds like my type.” 

Once again, Leonard watched him go, hoping the next time he reappeared he’d be his normal self. But Kirk didn’t shake his reticent mood for the rest of the week. Leonard came home from back to back night shifts at the clinic to see his bedroom light still on, door still firmly closed. 

Leonard was normally one to have a decent respect for privacy, but Kirk’s annoying cheerfulness had been the only thing filling in the void between them. Without it, Leonard felt suddenly lonely. So naturally, he hacked Kirk’s PADD. He wasn’t as tech savvy as many, and Kirk’s encryption sequence was clever, but he did piece together an address and a time. _East Block Upperclassman Housing, 1800. Today._

Leonard had one hour.

* * *

Sulu stormed out of class, his cheeks burning with anger at the violently red C on the top of his paper. It was A work and he knew it, but something was going on. Something he needed to get to the bottom of before he was forced back into his old life. 

Sulu flinched at the sharp beep of his communicator that signaled an incoming call. Christine Chapel’s panicked voice pushed the limits of the cut-rate communicator speaker. 

“Sulu, they’re coming after you. The doctor and-”

“Chapel, where have you been? What do you know about their plan?” Sulu ducked into an empty classroom and locked the door behind him.”

“They tied me up in a basement somewhere. They dumped me out in the middle of nowhere. I just now found my way back.”

“I don’t want your life story. I asked you what you knew,” Sulu growled. He checked every window in the room, fearing after every flick of the blinds that Kirk would be on the other side. 

“You don’t have to get rude about it, I’m trying to save your life. I heard them talking while I was there. They’re planning it for today. They're going to lure you into a crowded place and orchestrate an accident. You need to get home as soon as possible. And Sulu-” 

Sulu flipped the lid on his communicator and immediately called Chekov. No answer. Sulu wasn’t worried about him yet; the kid had a life outside their plans, but he left a message anyway. They’d need a counter-attack, and fast. He checked his dagger and the brass knuckles he kept in his back pocket. He wasn’t a brawler by any means, he’d been trained in fencing, but he sure as hell wouldn’t go down without a fight. 

He walked as quickly as he could without drawing undue attention to himself. He had no idea how Kirk and McCoy would manage to orchestrate an accident with so many people walking around campus, but any one of them could be an accomplice. At home, he should be safe. Second- year Command-track cadets had hidden addresses, and apartments instead of a dorm. He could hole up for a few days. If he had to, he could run. 

Finally, he was home, entering in the electronic code to get inside. The door slid shut behind him and he breathed in relief. But Sulu couldn’t quite relax. The corner of the living room rug was turned up. A sound ---

He turned around wildly in search of one of the many knives hidden around his apartment, but Sulu felt a hard jerk on the back of his shirt and saw a flash of command gold before he felt the hypo’s painful stab. 

Sulu regained consciousness tied to his dining room chair, a throbbing pain in his head that told him that Kirk hadn’t bothered to cushion his fall. He struggled against the binds that held him to the chair, but Kirk was no amateur. Where was he?

“Get out here and get this over with,” he shouted. If he could keep Kirk talking long enough to get Chekov worried then he’d have a chance. Agonizing minutes ticked by before he finally heard a noise from the kitchen behind him. His heart hammered and his eyes grew wide as Chapel stepped into view.

“Hey Cadet Sulu,” the nurse grinned, twirling a hypo between her thumb and index finger. 

Sulu’s heart dropped as he realized Chapel had played him, but he tried to cover. “Chapel? I’m surprised. This isn’t exactly your style.”

“And I thought for sure you would recognize that your lock had been tampered with and this venture would be doomed to fail, but we are all full of surprises I suppose.” From behind him, Sulu heard Kirk’s unmistakable snicker. 

He was still terrified, but anger was starting to replace the fear. “What did Kirk offer you?”

Chapel pulled a long, narrow knife out of her boot. She pushed a stray hair out of her face with the blade and grinned. “The chance to kill you, Mr. Sulu.” 

He laughed, “And here I’m thinking I didn’t make an impression on you. You’re risking everything to kill me. I’ve got very powerful fri-” his words were cut off by the knife pressed against his throat. He could feel the blade’s pressure with every breath.

“Oh, Mr. Sulu, you made quite the impression on me. Talking down to me, doubting my intelligence, hurting my friends. Do you remember my friend Go’il?” Sulu struggled to remember the name with a knife pressed to his throat, but it hit him. 

“That idiot Feridian I beat sparring?” he asked. The blade sunk in, drawing a pinprick of blood to his skin. “I mean, she wasn’t your friend. You were terrible to her.” 

“She was useful, Sulu, and you deprived me of that by breaking all of her arms,” she growled. 

“My condolences,” he mocked with a contrite look that seemed to color her with rage. “But is that it?” He could keep her talking all day as long as she didn’t slit his throat

“A million grievances Sulu. I should cut you from ear to ear right now.”

“Chapel.” It was Kirk’s stern voice. She pulled back on the knife, but did not tuck it back into her boot. 

“Call off your dog, Kirk,” he growled. _Maybe they weren’t planning on killing me after all? Maybe this was just a warning?_ Sulu’s thoughts raced. Maybe there was hope outside of a rescue. 

“Don’t think I will, Mr. Sulu.” Kirk said. 

Chapel advanced, raising the hypo. “Slitting your throat is too easy. So you’re going to have a really unfortunate freak accident, Sulu. You’re about to have a tragic air embolism that will trigger a massive stroke. You’ll be dead of a completely natural cause before anyone will think to look for you. Guess Starfleet was just a little too hard on you.” The cruel smile on Chapel’s face and the black look in her eye rendered her almost unrecognizable.

Sulu could hear movement behind him and scowled as Kirk walked to stand beside Chapel.

“Hendorff, secure the perimeter.” Kirk spoke to the darkness in his hallway. 

At first, Sulu refused to look away. She’d have to look him in the eyes if she wanted to kill him, but the first minute touch of the hypo made him snap his eyes shut. I did what I could, he mused as he readied for the hiss that would mark his final moments on earth, but the hiss never came. 

Sulu’s eyes snapped open in time to see Kirk was knocked aside by a violently swinging door. A thickly accented voice from the darkness outside his apartment hissed, “You will drop that hypo or you will die. Good, now get on the floor. Do it!” Chekov stepped cautiously around, training his phaser alternately on Kirk and Chapel. “Which one of you wants to die first?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Feel free to comment :)


	7. Loft

Kirk recovered from the hard fall and got into a crouching position, hands raised, “Listen, Chekov, we-” 

“I said don’t move!” Chekov fired at Jim, grazing his kneecap and sending him straight back to the ground. Chekov was a variable that Kirk hadn’t counted on. He’d seen a lot of plans go belly up in his day, lethally so, but he’d never imagined he’d die at the hand of a baby-faced Russian whiz kid. 

“What the hell!” Chapel moved toward Jim, but Chekov’s phaser separated them. Kirk shot Chapel a warning look. The situation was still salvageable, but they had to regain control and keep the kid from shooting them both. Chapel took a visible deep breath. That was one less variable he had to worry about. Leonard wasn’t joking when he’d mentioned Chapel’s wild streak. 

“And where’s Hendorff? Wasn’t he on guard?” Jim demanded. If Hendorff came barreling in half-cocked that would be yet another situation Jim hadn’t counted on. He was beginning to wonder if he was losing his edge. 

Chekov glared at him. “Hendorff wasn’t outside.“ 

_That dirty bastard,_ Jim thought. Hendorff sure as hell wasn’t as dumb as everyone made him out to be. In the brief pause as they both puzzled the whereabouts of Hendorff, Jim noticed a slight shake in Chekov’s phaser hand. He was tough and terrified most of their class, but Kirk guessed he hadn’t done a whole lot of killing. 

“Chekov, I think that if you just take a moment-” Jim was interrupted by a loud shout from behind Chekov. 

“Jim, what in the hell?” McCoy stood frozen in the doorway. Chekov flinched and fired the phaser wildly. Kirk howled as the phaser’s blast hit him directly in the thigh and again in his shin just below the first graze. Sulu lunged and pulled the phaser out of Chekov’s hand, settling it in his own experienced grip and pointing it at McCoy. Chapel leapt behind Chekov, knife held to his throat.

Kirk recovered slightly from the shock of the shots and slowly reached for his own phaser as Sulu focused on McCoy and Chekov struggled to breathe in Chapel’s grip. In one deft motion he released the phaser from its holster and rolled into a seated position as Sulu fired at McCoy. He missed, putting a hole in the drywall behind McCoy. 

“Stop! I don’t want every one of us to die today, but that’s what is going to happen if you don’t stop firing,” Kirk said through gritted teeth, phaser pointed at Sulu. Sulu saw Jim’s hand and froze, looking back and forth from Chekov to Chapel to Jim. 

“You were the one threatening to kill people, Kirk.”

Jim stood up slowly as Chekov spoke, hoping that it wouldn’t begin a whole new wave of wild firing. He winced at the throbbing pain in his leg, but set his jaw and managed to speak. “I know, but that was a mistake. I respect both of you. We’re all at the top of our respective games. Do you know what we could do if we worked together?”

“Oh, so now it’s fine to work together when it’s your suggestion, Kirk?” Sulu interrupted. 

Chekov shook his head slightly against Chapel, still trembling. “He has a point, Kirk. What can you offer us?”

Kirk smiled, working hard to conceal the awful pain that seemed to be spreading rapidly. “We can all offer each other a safety net. You’ve got the best mind for navigation in the fleet and I know you have quite the network, but you don’t have the ear of as many officers as I do. I can get you off the blacklist with one phone call. And we could all use a good doctor.” Kirk pointed at the horrid wounds on his leg. 

Sulu grimaced. “Go on.”

Kirk barely kept the grin off his face. He had them. Just a few loose ends and he’d have his crew. “Like I said, Sulu. We’ve got skills you need and you’ve got skills we need. We stop stabbing each other in the back for long enough and start capitalizing on our skills. Who knows, we could win ourselves a ship one day.”

Sulu frowned, but gave Kirk a shallow nod. Slowly, Chekov nodded and Sulu lowered the phaser. Kirk mirrored him. Chapel released Chekov, sheathed her knife, dropped the hypo and crushed it with her foot. Chekov met her eyes and nodded in approval. Leonard immediately crossed the room and bent down to Jim’s wounds, but Jim pushed him away. “So, are we done with the shooting now? Can we all just sit down at the kitchen table like reasonable people and finalize this deal?”

* * *

After the negotiations, Leonard helped Kirk limp out of Sulu’s apartment. He concealed the wounds as best he could and they called one of San Francisco’s less disreputable cabs. “Damn the credits, I can afford to sit down,” Kirk muttered as they pulled up near (not at, Kirk refused to give away their address) the house. 

Leonard helped him out the cab as inconspicuously as possible, keyed open the door, and got Kirk down to the couch. 

“So this was it, wasn’t it?”

Kirk winced as Leonard prodded at his leg. “What was it?”

“This whole setup. It’s why you’ve been acting like a goddamn ghost?”

“I haven’t been acting like a ghost.”

“My ass you haven’t. Look, Jim, you’re the one who said we were in this together. And we can’t be in it together if you don’t tell me what the hell is happening.” The _Jim_ was out of his mouth before he could stop it. His hand felt suddenly wrong, touching Kirk’s knee.

But Kirk didn’t flinch at the sound of his name. He almost relaxed. “Sorry, but you couldn’t be in on this one. I wasn’t sure how it was going to play out.”

“You didn’t plan to scare Sulu so bad he joined your little party? Because that should have been your plan. Seemed to work.”

“That wasn’t my plan, no.”

“Then what was?”

Kirk stared past Leonard’s shoulder at the wall. “I was going to kill him, Bones. Because he was going to kill you. That’s what Hendorff told me. I had no reason not to trust him.”

Leonard’s hand dropped away from Kirk. “No reason? You had all the reason in the world! What the hell were you thinking, letting your guard down and listening to someone you know has tried to kill both of us before?” He could feel his face growing red, anger lighting him up from the inside -- And then he felt Kirk’s lips against his, pressed hard and too soon gone. 

“I didn’t want to get you killed. That’s all. Now please fix my damn leg already.”

The memory of the kiss was already fading. Leonard nodded. “One homemade regenerator coming right up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not the worst update time, eh lads? Thanks for sticking with us and we always love your comments!


	8. Horizon

Three days after the fight, Kirk and McCoy agreed to meet Sulu and Chekov in the Orion’s Belt Bar. Jim’s leg still hurt after McCoy’s homemade regenerator, and McCoy looked hesitant to return to where he’d been almost beaten to death, but they made the trek anyway. 

“Don’t worry about it, Bones,” Jim said cheerfully as they walked through the gathering dusk. “We’ll be fine.”

“I’ve known you for less than half a year and I already know that when you say we’ll be fine, we’re going to have yet another near death experience.”

“Shut up. This time I’m right. See, we’re almost there and no goons in sight. I don’t think we’re even being followed.”

“You shut up, that’s not something to advertise.”

Despite Leonard’s fears, they made it safely inside the bar and slunk over to a shadowy booth that Chekov had reserved. “Didn’t think this dump took reservations,” Leonard muttered as they slid into place. 

Chekov looked up coldly. “Think again.” 

Jim exchanged a brief glance with McCoy and shrugged. “So. Here it is, our first powwow.”

“Can we cut the sentiment already, asshole?” Sulu snapped.

“Man, if you think I’m being sentimental now, you’re about to have quite the awakening. Or should I say arousing?” Jim grinned at Sulu’s discomfort. “Let’s talk.” 

Sulu rolled his eyes. “Chekov and I have already mapped out the next two years of classes for ourselves that will best prepare us for the Kobayashi Maru. I’ll send you the list and we can find the gaps and fill them in with your school schedules. I think that Doctor McCoy would be most useful in-”

A notice popped up on Jim’s PADD, and he stopped listening to Sulu completely as he read further into the notification. 

_Subject: I.S.S Enterprise maiden voyage advanced to Stardate 2258.12 Be advised that all applications for captaincy and recommendations must be on file before Stardate 2257.89._ The message wasn’t intended for him or anyone with such a low security clearance, but he’d synced his own PADD secretly with a few key staff members. 

“Kirk, are you listening?” Sulu glared over his PADD. Jim didn’t react at first, but a hard elbow to the ribs from Bones brought him back to reality. 

“Yeah, yeah, classes and all that. What I really need to know is what you know about the I.S.S. Enterprise.” 

“Top of the line. Top secret tech. Everything about her is need to know. What does that have to do with our classes?” Chekov asked. 

“Everything. What are we taking these classes for if not to find ourselves at the bridge of the best ship that the Empire can build?”

McCoy breathed a heavy sigh and laughed, “You really think that they’ll hand over the keys to a brand new ship to a crew fresh out of the academy?” 

“We could make it happen. We’re top of our class.” Jim replied. He reopened the message and laid it out for all of them to see. 

Sulu looked incredulous. “You’ve got to be joking me, Kirk. Deadlines are at the end of this year. We can’t cram 4 years of the academy into one.” 

“Just because we aren’t supposed to doesn’t mean we can’t. This empire was built on impossibility. We’ll be punished if we fail, but I don’t plan on failing.”

“We don’t have an engineer or anyone remotely qualified to be a communications officer. We can’t go into this test half-cocked.” Sulu pulled up the list of recommended crew makeup and skills requirement for the Kobayashi Maru on his PADD and highlighted each hole in their lineup with a vicious stab of his finger. 

Jim lifted his hands in mock surrender, “You’re right, Sulu, you’re right, but I’ve got an idea for the communications problem and I’ll fill in as engineer if I have to. I can catch up well enough to slip by. We can do this.” His voice was firm, but he could tell the excitement he felt was starting to catch. 

Sulu kept frowning, but slowly Chekov began to nod. “You’re right, Kirk. As long as we succeed, no one will care how we did it.”

With Chekov’s assent, Sulu shrugged. “I know I want off this planet, and I guess the quicker the better.”

Only McCoy hadn’t said anything, but Jim wasn’t worried. Leonard could be convinced.

* * *

The walk home was quiet. They’d left the bar well after midnight, but even with his knife and jury-rigged phaser, Jim felt tense. And McCoy wasn’t talking, wasn’t even giving his normal curmudgeonly lectures. _He just needs to be convinced_ , Jim thought. 

They were only two blocks from home, but Jim paused long enough to make Leonard stop walking. “What?” the doctor hissed. “We’ll get ourselves killed out here if we’re not careful.” 

“Why didn’t you agree, back there at the bar? Why aren’t you in on the plan yet?”

McCoy’s face was impassive. “You’re rushing into things that we won’t be able to escape.” 

Jim took a few steps closer until he was only a breath away from McCoy. “Do you not trust my judgment?”

“Not particularly.”

Jim hesitated, a rare twinge of his conscious fighting up from where he’d buried it. And then he sealed the distance between himself and McCoy, pushing him against the alley wall. The kiss was longer this time, lingering, and Jim forced himself to break it off. “Do you trust my judgment now?”

McCoy shook his head. “Less than ever.”

* * *

“We’ve got to start thinking about more potential crewmembers, Bones. Four people do not a bridge crew make.” Jim had been talking non-stop about the potential in their class, and doing extensive research on the classes above them. “There’s a Ktarian engineer two years above us that I’ve been reading up on. She seems perfect and unaffiliated with anyone in her year.” Jim paced their apartment, flipping through profiles on his PADD. 

Leonard grumbled, barely awake for the day. “Aren’t you getting a little ahead of yourself? We’re not even through year one and have both almost died.” 

“Keyword being almost, Bones. You know what we’re planning, and you know we need as much talent as we can get. Our future depends on it.” 

“Sure.” Leonard couldn’t stop his heartbeat from accelerating at the word _our_. “But you’ve got to admit that we haven’t met nearly enough cadets for ourselves. We’ve barely begun to trust Sulu and Chekov and you met them in pre req classes. Think how many students are actually at this damn academy.” 

Jim stopped pacing abruptly. “You’re right. We’ve got to consider everyone we’ve met so far too, not just more advanced cadets. Make a list of everyone you’ve worked with at the clinic-”

“Jim, that’s absurd, do you know how many --”

“Yes, I know how many people you meet a day, that’s the point. We need to keep track of them. Who knows how many could be tracking us. I mean, based on the experience of this semester alone, it’s fair to be paranoid.” 

“Oh, so it’s fair to be paranoid when you say so, but not when I suggest it?”

Jim rolled his eyes. “Shut up. Anyway, you, make a list. Me, I’ve got a few ideas. I need to sleep with an Orion.”

“I’m not your secretary, Kirk,” said Leonard heatedly. “Make your own damn list.” 

Leonard winced as Jim slammed the front door closed behind him. _You don’t care who he sleeps with. It has nothing to do with you._ He repeated the mantra over and over as he tidied up his apartment. _Our apartment_ his brain supplied as he folded Jim’s clothes and placed them into his half of the dresser. Bones stared at himself in the mirror above the dresser and sighed.  
“He’s probably just using you, Leonard. Get it together.” he told his reflection, “Get. It. Together.” He turned away and began folding his own laundry.


	9. Off-Course

As cavalier as Jim had made the situation sound to Bones, Jim had been casing out the Orion-friendly bar for a few weeks. He’d made sure to speak to Uhura’s Orion friend Gaila at each of their study dates, and he was finding Gaila a much quicker study than Uhura. Where the xenolinguist was all coy and carefulness, Gaila was brash and proud. She seemed to like Jim’s attentions, and certainly flirted back much more than Uhura ever tried to. But Jim wasn’t here for either of the women’s attractions. He was here for Uhura’s connections. And if that meant using her closest friend, so be it.

The Nebula Club was, as always, popping with Orions and their pheromones. It was in a nasty part of town, south of campus and filled with off-worlders of varying sorts. The Nebula, however, was well-known for its hot, late-night dancing. Jim had chosen a Saturday night that Gaila was scheduled to dance at, and he had in turn taken the liberty of convincing one of Sulu’s goons to go to the club separately, to heckle the Orion cadet. Though Jim wasn’t convinced it was the best course of action, he needed Gaila on his side, and that was best achieved through drama. 

Jim sweet-talked the bouncer into letting him in for free and caught Gaila’s eye just before she stepped on the low dancing platform. She winked and twirled, and Jim grinned in return. He bought himself two drinks -- one he downed immediately, and the other he saved for Gaila’s break. After she had done a few sets, she flounced over and joined Jim at the bar, where he slid her the drink. 

“A Cardassian Sunrise, how thoughtful,” she cooed.

“You’re very talented. You deserve it,” Jim replied. 

“Flatterer, what do you want from me?” But she sipped the drink with a smile and Jim shook his head, laughing. 

“I’m just checking the place out. I feel like a lot of cadets forget to experience the San Fran off-world subculture.” 

Gaila snorted. “Hell of a scene. Well, it certainly can be, if you know the right people. So tell me, Jim, do you know the right people?”

Jim let his eyes, still unnaturally pale in the club’s black light, meet hers, intense. “I’m not sure, but I’m hoping I’m getting to know one of them.” 

She didn’t laugh this time, but finished the drink and stood up. “Could be, who knows. I’m off to dance again. Will you be here?”

“Wouldn’t miss it.” 

As Jim leaned against the bar and watched Gaila dance again, he realized he’d meant his words honestly: she was very good, and she did have a nice way about her. If she had more use than dancing, maybe he’d get her onboard their crew as well. But for now, he needed information. 

Hoyt, Sulu’s goon, barged into The Nebula about halfway through Gaila’s last set. Jim concealed a sigh of relief. While he thought he had Gaila’s interest on lock, he needed this ruse to cinch the deal. Hoyt was doing a good job of acting (or maybe just was) roaring drunk, and he was already prepared to throw punches. Perfect. His disturbance hadn’t gotten the music stopped yet, but Gaila had stuttered a bit at his entrance, and she she seemed to struggle to feel the music’s pulse again. A few burly Orions were starting to close in, and Jim had to move quickly. He’d promised Sulu that his man wouldn’t get hurt -- much. 

“Hey,” he shouted, shoving through the crowd. “What the hell is going on, who is this guy?”

Hoyt looked at him in confusion, and Jim shook his head slightly, hoping the idiot wouldn’t ruin everything. The Orions parted, preferring to let another human deal with the distraction, and Jim grabbed Hoyt’s collar. “What the hell do you think you’re doing, ruining the show?” 

Hoyt seemed to remember his part suddenly and shoved back against Jim’s hold. “I should ask you the same thing, alien-fucker! What are you doing pandering around with all these space hobgoblins?”

“Enjoying myself, up till now.”

“Enjoy yourself with your own kind, asshole. I came here to make trouble because all these people deserve is trouble. Haven’t you heard the news? Humans are the master race.”

Jim quickly blinked back surprise at Hoyt’s performance. Either the guy was an amazing actor or he was really swallowing the Starfleet propaganda word for word. But whichever it was, it had worked. The Orions were yelling, Gaila had stopped dancing entirely, and Jim knew that the best course of action was to throw a punch. He hit Hoyt solidly on the jaw, though he tried not to do too much lasting damage. Even so, it felt good to get some very delayed revenge on one of the people who had nearly killed him almost six months ago.

The club had erupted into utter pandemonium, with any non-Orions finding themselves to be suddenly very unwelcome. Jim hit Hoyt once more for good measure and dragged him toward one of the back entrances. “Better make yourself scarce for a few days. I’ll send you your credits when the dust has settled.” Hoyt nodded, holding his nose. “You’ve got it.” 

Having dispatched his ruse, Jim slipped back into the fray and found Gaila, who was kicking someone from her dancing platform, heels doing quite a number on the alien’s face. Jim hopped up to join her and gently grabbed her arm. “Let’s get you out of here.”

“Get me out of here?” She whirled on him. “You’re the alien, maybe you should get yourself out of here.” 

Jim had a rare stab of concern. This was not part of the plan. He tried to cover. “You’re right, obviously, but care to come with me? Not sure either of us should leave alone with that bigot on the loose.” 

Gaila relaxed a bit. “You could have a point.”

“And we could grab another drink on the way home.”

“Which home?”

Jim smiled. The plan was working after all. “Well, the problem is, mine is on the other side of town. How close is yours?”

She leaned against him, and Jim realized that as good and calculated as his plan might be, her Orion pheromones were working. Gaila grinned. “Good thing I live right above this shithole. No need to even leave the building. And don’t worry, I have some good Earth whisky upstairs.”

Jim let her pull him through the throng, through a door he’d somehow missed in his initial count of exits, and up a narrow staircase. Though he’d only had one drink, his head felt light and wild, and her hand in his felt hot. He’d absolutely had worse plans.

* * *

Jim had also absolutely had worse nights, and as he climbed off Gaila’s bed to get dressed and go, figuring that the plan would now be to simply maintain contact, he was surprised to find Gaila pulling him back. “You said yourself you didn’t feel safe outside. So what’s the rush, Jim?” 

He tumbled back beside her and laughed, confused. “I don’t want to overstay my welcome. It was, um, good of you to have me over. I’m sure your motive was purely pity.”

“Oh, don’t play that game with me. You’re practically half Orion, the way you use those big blue eyes. And, you know, other things. We both got what we wanted, you especially. Now humor me and cuddle. You’re not free until you have class. Or whatever it is you do.”

Jim obliged, wrapping an arm around Gaila. He felt almost a pang of guilt at not being home when he told Leo-- no, McCoy -- he would be, but this was too good of an opportunity to pass up. All the rumors said Orions loved pillow talk. And Jim loved pillow talk as a means of information gaining. As pleasant as it was to be close to someone, though, Jim felt uneasy. His last memory of holding a person was nowhere near as pleasant. _It was a corpse,_ his brain supplied, complete with a mental image. The thought felt so loud he worried Gaila had heard it. He couldn’t stop thinking, picturing the body of the child, he himself no more than a child, he was so cold…

Gaila elbowed him. “Jim, what the hell, I asked you a question.”

Jim shook his head sharply. “Sorry, I must have dozed off.”

“You didn’t look very sleepy, but whatever you say. I don’t normally stick around to sleep with humans so what do I know.”

Jim forced a smile. “Must have been one of those weird startling dreams. Do Orions get those?”

Gaila frowned. “Like when you jump awake after falling or something? Yes, Orions get those. I feel like that’s universal. We are aliens, I know, but we’re not literally insane.” 

Jim fought through the overwhelming nausea of his old memories and pulled Gaila a little closer. “I guess we humans can be fairly exclusionist.”

Gaila snorted. “I’ll say.”

“So why did you join Starfleet? Please, take this as a compliment, but it’s pretty ballsy as an Orion.”

She paused, tensing a bit in Jim’s arms. “Orion as a planet is not in great shape right now. That’s why so many of us left. And being an Orion on Earth is, as you may have seen tonight, pretty limiting in terms of career options. I wanted more. Humans can be exclusionist, but so can any species. I figured, I’ll throw my lot in with the biggest guns and the winning side, and hopefully that will get me included instead.” 

Jim let a little quiet descend, and then asked, “And do they? Do they ever include you?”

Gaila relaxed a bit. “If you’re fishing for compliments from me you won’t get them. But yeah, actually, it’s been easier than I expected. I mean, you know Uhura. That girl is insane and smart and actually pretty nice. Like, more genuine than most of you imperial snots.” 

“Imperial snots, that’s a good one. I’m going to say that next time I hit someone I don’t like. But is she actually nice?”

“If you think she’s being mean to you right now, you should see her when she’s actually mad. Trust me, you’re on her good side.” 

_Good news,_ Jim thought. “I’m shocked, flattered, and I’d like to thank the Academy.” 

Gaila nudged him. “Not that good of a side, stand down.” 

“Trust me, I’m not interested.”

“Trust you? Not likely. But why no interest? She is like, so gorgeous. And you two would be very high-espionage, sexy, angry sex type people. I can see it now. It would end in flames but it would burn so good.” 

“Gaila, your turn to stand down.” 

“Fishing for compliments again, eh? Well, while I refuse to compliment you directly, I will say that you have about 800 percent more allure than that Vulcan professor she insists on following around.”

“Yeah, what’s that all about?” Jim hoped his heartbeat wasn’t hammering into Gaila as much as it was in his own chest. Finally, the information he was looking for.

* * *

Leonard checked the time on his PADD. It glared back at him, 2 a.m. He’d stayed up too late, again. He closed the book he’d been trying to read and switched out the lights with a sigh. It wasn’t the first time Leonard had found himself accidentally waiting up for Kirk. He’d deny it if anyone asked and he almost couldn’t even admit it to himself, but it was the truth. This wasn’t the first time, and he had a feeling it wouldn’t be his last. Half the time that Jim went out he wouldn’t be back until the next afternoon, and on those days there was an almost one hundred percent chance that he’d been sleeping with someone else. _It doesn’t matter._ Despite those facts, Leonard felt a strange sort of duty in his nightly vigils. Kirk went out, so Leonard stayed up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this chapter's foray - though Gaila/Jim is not where this story is headed, it was a fun thing to explore! We love comments so if you particularly liked or hated this experiment, say so :)


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